“Growing up, every time I saw a men’s magazine cover that had a headline about ’73 Ways to Please Your Girlfriend’, all I could think was ‘I’m good with one; just tell me one way to please her. Also, I don’t have a girlfriend. Is there an article about that?'”

If I had to imagine what Mr. Halpern’s previously published book “Shi*t My Dad Says” sounded like, this book I Suck at Girls would definitely be a good preamble of what to expect. Although I don’t approve of the kind of language his father uses it definitely adds a great piece of humor to the stewpot of Justin’s life.

This post is obviously not about Sh*t My Dad Says, but I thought I’d throw my two-cents in. I Suck at Girls is a short discourse of Halpern’s life and the experiences he might’ve gained through maturation and knowledge he’s acquired being with women. A handful of just ridiculous women with no real potential all the way up to the woman he decides (and disclaims) he wants to marry.

Of course this book starts with a lovely meal with his father who advises him that if he’s sure about taking this step that he should take the day, before he fly’s to San Francisco to meet his soon-to-be fiancé at a prearranged meeting spot in a restaurant, and just think it through. Halpern takes his father’s advice and takes a stroll through a park and that’s how this story really delves into his past of relationship blunders.

It’s funny and witty and some of the things you hear you just wished you hadn’t, just makes the book all the more interesting! His father also helps in that department.

My final thoughts on this book are that Justin Halpern writes a great anecdote on a small aspect of his life and it makes me want to go out and read Sh*t My Dad Says because clearly he has a lot of great things to say, even though they sound quite crude but it’s logical; I love it!

It's very difficult to form a true conclusion as to the real identity of the individual known as Leah Smith for she is an enigma amongst humans. A tiny, canvas shoe wearing mystery who constantly eludes those trying to study her. Here's what we know to be fact, born in the late eighties (possibly) in London, under, most likely, a cloud of polution. How she ended up in Somerset remains to be seen, but end up there she did, whispering to cats, prancing about fields and fighting crime in the dead of night under the guise of 'KittenGirl.' All other information is mere sepculation, all we know for certain is that she walks among us and one day, may even save your life.